


hope that something pure can last

by NoShipsLikePartnerships



Series: 1day1newmann challenge [2]
Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Passionate and Fascinating Exchange of Letters, Pining, Post-Movie: Pacific Rim (2013), Post-Movie: Pacific Rim: Uprising (2018), Pre-Canon, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:55:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23977084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoShipsLikePartnerships/pseuds/NoShipsLikePartnerships
Summary: The letters are a source of comfort, something to look forward to, to rely on, even in these unusual and uncertain times.(Day 2: Letters, written for the 1day1newmann challenge)
Relationships: Newton Geiszler/Hermann Gottlieb
Series: 1day1newmann challenge [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1728742
Comments: 3
Kudos: 15





	hope that something pure can last

**Author's Note:**

> Day 2 of the 1day1newmann challenge! Except that it's after midnight here, so... technically late again, whoops. Also I cheated a little bit with this one, as I was already working on a letters-related fic, and figured this would be a good opportunity to finally finish it.
> 
> Title from 'We Used to Wait' by Arcade Fire, which is a song about writing letters, and always makes me think of newmann now when I listen to it.

Everything changes when the kaiju arrive.

Monsters are rising up from out of the ocean, and the world is changed forever. _Newt's_ world is changed forever.

The whole thing is horrible, obviously, but he also finds a new line of work, one that aligns itself perfectly with his interests and passions. Not only that, but he meets someone online who shares a similar passion, and who seems smart as hell: a physicist named Hermann Gottlieb, who's only a year older than Newt, and also from Germany. They share their theories with each other, and then pick them apart, but in a way that's actually constructive, and not patronizing the way that Newt is used to being treated by his peers. It's nice to have someone who actually _understands_ him.

Then, they begin to write letters.

Maybe it's a bit old-fashioned, but it's fun. Newt's always been a tactile person, and having something that he can hold in his hands, run his fingers over as he reads over and over again... he loves it.

That isn't all he loves, he soon discovers with each new letter that he finds in his mailbox—he is head over heels for this guy, despite the fact that they've never met. Newt doesn't even know what Hermann looks or sounds like, but that part doesn't really matter to him. Hermann's smart, and kind, but also isn't afraid to say what he thinks. The longer they write to each other, the more personal the content of the letters becomes, until Newt feels like he knows Hermann better than anyone, and vice versa.

The letters are a source of comfort, something to look forward to, to rely on, even in these unusual and uncertain times.

It goes on for years.

The excitement of writing, the pure, unadulterated joy of sending them out, and then the anxiousness of waiting for a reply.

The wait is always, always worth it.

Everything changes when they meet.

The whole thing had gone terribly, and now all Newt wants to do is lock himself in his apartment and cry.

He grabs the stack of letters off of his desk, shaking with anger, and flings them away from him. He watches numbly as they scatter throughout the room, like leaves in the autumn air.

Picking up the nearest one, he screams in frustration as he begins to tear it in half, then stops, horrified at what he's just done. He lets the letter fall from his hands, back onto the desk, and covers his mouth, trying to stifle a sob.

After a moment, Newt picks the letter back up, and drops down into the desk chair, rifling around through all the crap on his desk until he finds the scotch tape. Still trembling slightly, he painstakingly starts to tape it back together, then once he's done, gathers the rest of the letters from where they've landed around the room.

Once he's got them all, he stuffs them hastily into one of the desk drawers, and slams it shut. The sound reverberates through the room, deafening.

Some days, they'd been the only things keeping him going. And, yeah, he knows how that probably sounds, but it's true. He isn't sure what he'll do without them, now.

Flopping down onto his bed, Newt buries his face against the pillow, and lets the tears come. The sense of loss is one that he can't put into words. 'Heartbroken' might come close, though it's deeper than that, like he's lost a piece of himself that he knows he'll never get back, and it hurts like hell.

He cries until he thinks he has no tears left, then cries some more when it turns out that he's wrong about that. Finally, he exhausts himself enough that he falls asleep, thinking, as he drifts off, of all the letters tucked away now, and all the ones he'll never send.

Everything changes again when they're assigned to work together.

Newt hates it, at first, or at least he tries to, anyway.

Underneath it all, is the bone-deep yearning, of being so close and yet so far at the same time. The knowledge that, even after all this time, Newt's feelings for Hermann haven't changed. He even still has the letters, brought with him from home, and hidden away in his room. It sucks. More than that, it still _hurts_.

So Newt does what he always does, and pushes back. They clash. They argue.

They make it work.

They don't exactly have much of a choice. There are bigger things than them right now, anyway. Bigger problems to solve than theirs. He wishes that things could go back to the way they were, but... in some ways, he thinks maybe this is better than nothing? Even if sometimes, it feels worse. At least, this way, they're still in each others' lives. Despite the constant fighting, they fall into a familiar routine, challenge each other, make each other better.

They save the world.

Together.

Even more incredibly, after the Drift, they're _okay_ , they're on the same page again, and Newt learns that those feelings he'd just assumed were one-sided, maybe aren't so one-sided, after all.

It looks like things might be looking up for them.

Everything had changed.

Newt hadn't meant for it to happen, not any of it.

He hadn't been able to do a damn thing to stop it, no matter how hard he had tried. Not that he'd been around for that much of it, though. _They'd_ seen to that.

But they aren't around, not anymore. And Newt's finally been given the all-clear from the PPDC to be released back into the wild, so to speak. Or, more accurately, released into Hermann's custody. They're currently in his room, where he's just dug a box out from deep inside the closet.

"You left quite a few things behind, when..."

"... Yeah." Newt looks down at the box as Hermann places it on the desk. Hesitating a little, he steps forward and opens it, bracing himself for whatever pieces of his old life he might find inside.

It's mostly just random junk, his old notes, some kaiju figures. It's all stuff that feels like it belongs to someone else.

He digs around in the box, and finally comes up with a stack of envelopes. Frowning, Newt pulls them out slowly, then almost drops them again once he realizes what he's holding in his hands.

The letters. His letters. Well, okay, technically Hermann's letters, but they're _his_ letters.

He'd never found out what had happened to them, had assumed that the Precursors had either destroyed them or just thrown them out. Even riding in Newt's brain, the fuckers had been cagey about it, and he hadn't known what had become of the letters that had once been so precious to him. That are still so precious now.

Very carefully, he slips the top one out of the envelope, and starts to read. He doesn't get too far before the page starts to get blurry, and he has to stop. Well. It's not like half of those letters aren't tear-stained already.

"Are you alright?" Hermann asks him. It's only then that Newt realizes the tears have already begun spilling down his cheeks.

He nods, gulping. "Yeah. Yeah, I..."

Hermann pulls him in close for a hug before Newt can finish the sentence. Grateful, Newt presses his face against him, taking several deep breaths (inhale, exhale, he can do this). Wrapped in Hermann's arms, he feels safe and warm. He feels human again. He can smell the fabric softener in Hermann's sweater, and maybe it's kind of a dumb thing to focus on, but Newt finds it extremely comforting.

He's... maybe not okay, not yet. But he'll get there, he will. He made it _back_.

And he's going to fight like hell to stay.

Newt finally feels himself calm down, but he doesn't want to let go. Not yet. He hasn't had _this_ in so long... someone to hold, someone to hold him. He's not sure that he could let go if he wanted to.

"Thank you," he says, into Hermann's shoulder, "for keeping them. For keeping all of it."

Hermann squeezes him a little bit tighter in response. "Of course."

In a world that's always changing, he's been the one constant presence in Newt's life. Even when they were kept apart for all those years, he had always been at the back of Newt's mind, or at least, a part of him had been. The part that they had shared together in the Drift. It had been something for him to hold on to, to anchor him, to try and keep himself sane when the Precursors starting tearing his mind apart to make room for themselves. Always, always, there had been just a little bit of him, just enough, for Newt to hope. Because if that one little bit of him could survive, could sustain itself, then Newt wasn't truly gone, either. And if he wasn't gone, then, well... he could come back, couldn't he?

He's pretty sure that hope is what kept him alive all that time.

"We'll need a bigger place," Hermann says, interrupting Newt's thoughts. Newt lifts his head, and pulls back a little to look at Hermann in confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we'll need a little more space for two people, don't you think?"

Newt blinks at him. "You... you would still want to do that? Are you sure?"

They'd talked about moving in together, ages ago, before... before everything had gone so wrong. He didn't know if Hermann would still want him in his life, in any capacity, let alone that one.

"Yes, I'm sure," Hermann says. "I don't want to put any pressure on you, though, so if you'd rather not—"

"No, I... I want to," Newt replies, the words tumbling out in a rush, "more than anything."

"Good," Hermann says, and smiles at him. "I'm glad."

Tentatively, Newt smiles back, until it feels genuine. Maybe not everything had changed, after all. "Yeah. Me too."

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure if I'll actually be able to write one of these every day this month (considering it took me about 2 years to post... 12 fics lol) but we'll see how this goes!
> 
> You can also find me on tumblr @chalkstardust and twitter @kaijublueberry


End file.
